


Crashing

by AliceSchuyler



Series: Languages of Love [1]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Addiction, Cravings, Family first, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Recovering Alcoholic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 03:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30099420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceSchuyler/pseuds/AliceSchuyler
Summary: TK is still learning how to rely on this new family; they're so different from family he's used to hiding himself from.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Languages of Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2214774
Comments: 11
Kudos: 143





	Crashing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DjDangerLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DjDangerLove/gifts).



> I promised a bit of fluff for DjDangerLove, so here goes something? Title and lyrics are from Crashing by Illenium ft. Bahari

He's felt the urge to use before.

Usually it’s mild, just a tingle under the skin, the tips of his fingers desperate and itchy, his mood sour.

Sometimes it manifest as the need to take, to swallow a pill and forget, to lose himself in the fuzziness, the _euphoric high_ that an oxy fix usually brings.

Other times the urge to drink himself blind just overwhelms him, gives him tunnel vision, until he can’t even focus anymore because his nerves are driving him crazy.

Judd’s been on the receiving end of his desperation, several times, once in a physical altercation at the station.

* * *

_“I’m not doing this with you, alright?”_

_“Well, that must be nice that you get to move right to the front of the line while everybody else who deserves a shot –”_

_“You don’t know the first thing about me, dude.”_

_“No, man, you must have been killing it in New York City that you got to follow Daddy down here at the drop of a hat.”_

_“Seriously, Judd, **back off**.”_

_“Or what, pretty boy? Are you gonna go and tell your Daddy? You gonna say ‘Judd’s hurting my feelings’? Nobody in New York had the balls to tell the coach’s kid that his crap stinks.”_

* * *

Going to the bar for their first ‘team’ night in Texas had been a bad idea.

Watching his team clink glasses, sip from straws, smiles all around, the alcohol tainting the room, mocking him for not being strong enough to withstand the need.

He lied to his own father about ‘being happy’ with his mineral water. AA sucks, doesn’t matter what city they’re in, but he wants to be better, wants to function without the need singing through his veins.

If he’d been by himself, or a little more out of control, he would have been at that bar ordering a tequila, a whiskey, rum, _anything_ to silence the screaming of the blood in his veins, desperate for the high.

He’d resorted to physical violence one night, anything to make him feel something, because ever since he stopped taking the drugs, the alcohol, the whole world seems _grey_ , bland and tasteless, and he’s not sure if he even remembers how to exist anymore and pain seems to be the only reminder because he’s _so fucked up_.

Until Carlos.

Carlos quietly enters his life, the positive comments, the understanding and reassurance that TK has craved more than the substances, the simple touches that TK didn’t know could lift his heart and soul higher than the drugs he’d been seeking out for most of his teen years. If Carlos were a drug, TK was undoubtedly hooked, unable to pull away even if he tried.

_Intoxicating your kiss, intoxicating your lips_

_Nobody does it like this, I find it hard to resist_

_Feeling out of control, beautifully sold_

_What's coming over me?_

_It's a total eclipse of rationality_

He’s opened up to the team, told them that he’s an addict, that he’s overdosed and Owen was the one that found him, that _saved_ him, and he honestly expected them to pull away, yet they still show up, to team dinners, to hangouts at the local bars, dinner at that Mexican food truck Carlos is obsessed with, because _TK is family_ and they said they do anything for him.

He doesn’t expect that same attitude to apply when he’s in the safety of Carlos’ apartment.

* * *

There’s a comedy movie on in the background.

Everyone’s been drinking, still has long necked bottles in their hands, except Marjan and TK. Marjan doesn’t drink, TK knows that, but he’s still bitter because she could if she wanted to, she’s not like him, on the verge of tipping over the edge.

Mateo’s sprawled across the floor, Nancy nearby, long legs folded up in a way TK thought physically impossible. Paul’s on the armchair, leg slung over the side. TK’s sandwiched between Carlos and Marjan on the three-seater, and Jack, the newer paramedic on the team who was also a dual firefighter-medic, was in the other armchair opposite Paul.

_These people are family, you can tell them_.

He’s triggered by the laughter, the same kind of merriment that sounded like the high school friends who egged him on, to keep drinking until he was so blind drunk that he’d ended up in hospital with alcohol poisoning, and hadn’t that been fun to explain to Owen over the phone.

The tangy smell of Carlos’ wine drifts across, mixed in with the sweet aroma of the beer that’s calling to TK, mocking him and he’s never felt so desperate in his life, hands knotted in his jeans as he just tries to breathe.

“TK, you okay?” asked Marjan, leaning in to bump shoulders with him. TK tensed, pulling away, and Marjan glanced at Paul and then Carlos.

“Babe?”

“I’m fine, okay? Just quit asking,” snapped TK. Marjan raised her hands in surrender, before sipping her mineral water.

TK’s knee starts to jiggle, and he needs to do something with his hands, fiddling with the string on his hoodie, lifting the knotted end to his teeth so he can chew on it. Carlos put a gentle hand on TK’s knee, giving it a squeeze, and TK wrenches it away, already filled with shame about how he’s feeling and _why is today so different_?

“TK?” TK can hear the caution in Paul’s voice, knows he can see more than most of the team because he’s so damn observant, and maybe he wants him to find out, because he doesn’t know if he can speak anymore. He squeezes his eyes closed, feeling like he’s a speck of dust in the room under Paul’s microscope, nervous energy thrumming through him. Carlos wraps a warm arm around him as Mateo laughs at something, and TK feels his emotions snap.

“For fuck’s sake Mateo, it’s not even that funny,” he snarls. Marjan stands up, and TK feels his heart drop because he knows he’s fucked it up now. Carlos pulls TK close, pressing his head to his chest, and TK thinks he might cry, because Carlos makes everything better, and his hand reaches up to tangle into Carlos’ shirt, clutching him tightly. Carlos whispers sweet nothings into his ear, a mix of Spanish and English platitudes, and he lets himself go for just a few moments, allows himself the time to relax. He can hear the murmuring behind him, the clink of glass on glass, and just ignores it, Carlos’ warm hand on his back, an anchor through the sea of cravings and addiction and _need_.

Maybe he should leave.

TK startled as a different, smaller hand touches his shoulder, and fuck, when did he start crying?

“Hey man, you’re okay. I should have noticed sooner,” said Paul’s warm voice, tinged with regret.

“We all should have noticed sooner, I’m sorry TK. Judd’s really good at this, I don’t have as much practice,” admitted Marjan, her voice coming from somewhere over TK’s shoulder and Christ, he’s shaking like a small child and he feels like he should be better than this.

“Talk to us babe. We want to help,” whispered Carlos gently.

“I want… no, _I need_ a drink. Or to use. Or something else crazy like that. I just… I don’t know what to do,” replied TK, sniffling a little. Carlos pushed him upright, still holding him, and TK glanced at the team, eyes red and still watering.

“I’m sorry man. Do you want to watch something else?” asked Mateo quietly. TK shook his head, fisting his hands against the side of his head to try and make the screaming stop.

“You’re not alone in this TK,” added Nancy from her spot on the floor. TK finally took in the room, glancing around at the people he called family. The bottles were noticeably absent from the room, glasses of mineral water near each person, and felt his breath choke in his throat.

“You… you don’t have to stop drinking on my behalf,” stuttered TK.

“We’re family TK. We stick together, support one another, through thick and thin,” replied Paul quietly.

“If that means we don’t drink tonight, then that’s fine,” supplied Mateo.

Carlos felt TK tremble under his hands, overwhelmed. “It means we’re here for you TK. No matter what,” whispered Marjan from next to him. TK closed his eyes, willing the grateful tears to stay away, to keep them at bay because he loved what these people would do for him.

He felt something ping off the side of his head, and he opened watery eyes to glance around the room, Mateo looking suspicious, his hand still in the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

“Did you seriously just throw popcorn at me?” The room stilled for a moment, tense and nervous, before TK cracked a weak grin. “At least aim better next time.”

Mateo started to snicker, before Nancy tried to through popcorn into his mouth, laughing as he obviously missed. Carlos felt TK start to relax, curling into his embrace naturally, the tension bleeding out of him as Carlos pulled him close. Marjan scooped up TK’s feet, resting them across her lap as Paul, Mateo, Nancy and Jack all started to see who could catch the most extravagant popcorn throw, cheering loudly as they succeeded, and groaning exaggeratedly when one of them missed. TK smiled at them as Carlos started to run his hands through his hair, watching on as his team worked their hardest to distract him.

_Thank god for family to stop you from crashing._

* * *

_How could I go home when you're all I wanna know?_

_Come on, let me see your bed, it's too late for this to end_

_Yeah, I got myself too drunk on you to drive_

_So I'm crashing here tonight_

_How could I go home when I feel like I belong in your arms?_

_It's like Champagne, feel it pouring in my veins_

_Yeah, I got myself too drunk on you to drive_

_So I'm crashing here tonight_


End file.
